Snapshots of a Spider and a Hawk
by eClair23
Summary: Random snapshots in the lives of Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Nothing too objectionable, just sterilization and general fluff.
1. Hold Me

Clint had seen her bad before, but never like this.

He found her sobbing in a corner, alone, clutching her knees as tightly as she could to her chest, rocking herself back and forth.

He knew not to say anything. He just sat down beside her, gently put his arm around her, helped her up, and walked her to the quinjet.

He knew she would not like the others knowing she had been crying, so he carefully mopped up her face with his sleeve. He looked her deep in the eyes to make sure she was reasonably stable, and let her walk independently into the quinjet. She sat down shakily in the corner.

They had come up with a system for these panic attacks long before, he placed his hands firmly on her face, keeping her grounded and giving her something to hold on to. They breathed slowly and in sync. He whispered encouragements under his breath and tenderly wiped her tears, catching them before they fell.

Someone tried to interrupt them. He firmly turned their request down. Natasha was in no state to be singing lullabies to Doctor Banner. He had never seen her this bad and he knew for a fact that she would be up all night, terrified of what she might see if she were to fall asleep. He knew he would wake up at the slight creak of the door when she timidly picked the lock and pushed it open. He knew exactly what she would say: "Can I come in? Can't sleep." Then he would open his arms and she would curl into him. He would gently kiss the top of her head as she finally drifted into sleep and she would be gone when he woke the next morning.

But for now, he held her firmly and tried to keep her from falling apart in front of everyone else, she could fall apart in front of him, but he cared too much about her to let her suffer the brunt of Tony's jokes. He kept her true identity to himself and she never once questioned her trust in him. He was her safe place.

Tony sent questioning looks their way and Clint silenced his prying eyes with a sharp glance. Steve politely kept his eyes averted. Thor stared off into the distance. Bruce was mopping his sweat-drenched forehead with a towel.

Clint shifted so her small hands were in his hard, calloused ones. His eyes caught hers and her green eyes darted quickly to the floor, where they remained. Her eyes had lost their sparkle, and that broke his heart.

Her hands shifted out of his own, leaving them cold and empty. His eyes shot down to look at her hands. She was signing.

"Are you all right, my Hawk?"

He signed back, "Me? You're honestly worried about me? I'm okay. How are you, beautiful?"

"Surviving."

He chuckled, causing Tony's head to swivel in their direction.

"Stark is an idiot."

She let out a half hearted giggle.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not here, not now. Later."

He squeezed her hand.

"Okay. Is there anything I can do?"

"Just hold me."


	2. Home

"Nat, your room is ready upstairs," Laura stated kindly.

Clint shouldered her bag and lugged it upstairs for her.

"Welcome home, Nat."

"I'm just staying the night, Clint."

"Actually, you're not, Nat. Laura and I talked, and we want you to live here full-time. The kids _love_ their Aunty Nat."

"What?! No, Clint. I can't. I'd be putting you all in danger."

"Tasha, how many times do I have to tell you that Fury set this up? We are nowhere on the radar. This place is secure. I promise."

She nodded reluctantly. "Okay."

He got up to leave and said, grinning, "Welcome home, Tasha."

She allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "Thank you."


	3. Laser Tag

They needed some time off, they all agreed. Tony decided that laser tag would be a great way to unwind and have some fun.

Obviously, Natasha and Clint teamed up behind everyone else's backs. They hid in one of the lofts and watched each other's backs, working together seamlessly to take down the others.

Thor was confused and had no idea how to work the gun. Every time he got "shot" and his vest vibrated, he yelled, "How dare you fire your silly Midgardian weapons at the son of Odin?!"

Tony got frustrated and summoned his Iron Man suit, for which he was promptly disqualified and yelled at by the management.

Steve worked perfectly, using his acrobatics to dodge the lasers flying everywhere.

Bruce huddled in a corner, shaking and sweating furiously.

Needless to say, Natasha and Clint won by a landslide.


	4. Ouch

He gripped her arms just above the wrist firmly. She held on to his arms tightly as the doctor applied pressure to the wound on her shoulder. She gritted her teeth and hissed in pain. His thumb gently rubbed her arm. He tapped on her arm in Morse code.

"You okay?"

"Apart from the blazing pain in my shoulder, yes."

He rolled his eyes. She chuckled.

"Seriously, though. Major ouch."

"I don't doubt it. I've been shot a few times myself. At least this one's a pretty clean shot."

She nodded. "I guess it could always be worse."

The doctor bandaged her up and the two left the medical wing hand in hand.


	5. Our Fingers Do the Talking

He listened desperately for any clue as to where Natasha might be. After hours of tense, worry-filled silence and waiting, Clint finally heard tapping coming through the speaker.

 _Morse code!_ He thought with a thrill. _She was brilliant!_

"Help me," she tapped.

"You okay?"

"On the verge of another attack, but yeah, I'm okay."

"Hang in there, Agent Romanoff."

"You're coming to help me get out of this awful cell, right?"

"I wish I was, Nat, but Bruce is coming."

"All right. You okay, my Hawk?"

"Stop asking about me, Nat. We're all good here. You're the one I'm worried about."

"Thank you, Clint." He could sense her hands shaking as they tapped out her words.

"Don't cry, Nat. Please don't. I'll see you soon."

Silence on the line.

"I love you, Tasha."


	6. Safe

He held her firmly around the waist and walked her into the dusty old farmhouse. It had been their safe house since day one. She had been badly injured in London and he had brought her to the farm to recover. The farm was his escape, his refuge from the world. Being there always helped him relax after missions. He always took some time for himself to go home and recharge. At the farm, they could both finally let their guard down and relax. They were safe.

She blew the dust off of the guest room nightstand. Clint slept next door so that they would be close for panic attacks and nightmares. She heard him hit his head on something and a muffled "Ouch!". She chuckled softly. Home.

She refused to sleep. She knew the nightmares would barrage her all night and she had no desire to subject herself to that. She tried to read a little of her mystery novel but quickly lost patience. She swung silently out of bed and slipped some sweatpants and a sweatshirt over her sleepwear. She quietly opened Clint's door and slipped in, wincing as the door squeaked. He rolled over groggily.

"Hey, Nat."

"Can I come in? Can't sleep."

"Of course, Tasha. C'mere."

He opened his arms and she gratefully curled into him, taking in his warmth and the safety she felt in his arms. He placed a gentle kiss to her hair as her breathing slowed and she drifted into sleep. He could not keep the nightmares away, but he would be there for her when they hit. Always.


	7. Shaken

Her hands shook violently as she spelled out, "They sterilized me as part of my graduation ceremony. I can't have kids." She dropped her hands resignedly in her lap and blinked her tears away furiously. _No weakness._ The Red Room had instilled that in her long ago.

He jerkily formed the words "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"You want a family."

"I'm not mad, Tasha. And yeah, I want a family, but there are other ways. We could always adopt. You mean too much to me for me to let you go, especially over something like this."

She fell into his muscular, protective arms and his hands found their way to her hair and waist. He stroked her hair gently as sobs wracked her small figure.

"You're okay. I've got you. I'm here."

She clung tightly to him, clutching desperately to the only thing grounding her and keeping her from slipping down the precipice into her insane, dark mind.

"Thank you, my Hawk."


	8. More

No one trusted her (yet), but they still offered her a stable place to stay. She was placed in a cell (however nice and comfortable it was, it was still a cell). She sat on the cot, perfectly still, until Clint softly rapped his knuckles on the glass door. Her head snapped up.

"I'm going to go down to the cafeteria for lunch. You want to come? Fury said it's okay."

She nodded.

He opened the door and let her out.

They walked in silence to the cafeteria.

Clint went ahead of her in the buffet line to demonstrate what to do. He heaped his plate full of pizza, while she cautiously put a small spoonful of potatoes and a slice of bread on her plate. They sat down across from each other and everyone around them got up and left, muttering.

"They're talking about me." It was a statement, not a question.

"They just need to warm up to you, Natalia."

"Don't call me that."

"That's your name! What _can_ I call you?"

"I don't know. Just _not_ that."

"Okay."

He wolfed down his pizza as she timidly poked at her food. He glanced down at her plate.

"Go get some more food."

"What?"

"You can't possibly function eating like that."

"This is how I've always eaten, Barton. It's how I was raised. I'm fine."

"No. We aren't leaving this cafeteria until you eat some more."

He escorted her back to the buffet and took her plate from her hands.

"Hey!"

"Let me help you. What looks good?"

She pointed to a juicy looking slice of pot roast. He transferred it to her plate. He heaped all sorts of hearty food on her plate despite her protests.

They sat back down in their spot in the now deserted cafeteria. Clint watched her intently as she began to slowly eat her food. By the time she made it to the bowl of soup, she was wolfing down the food greedily. He grinned at her. She finished her food.

"Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. You want to eat together tomorrow?"

She nodded.

He escorted her back to her cell.


	9. What's in a Name?

Clint Barton poked his head into her cell. "How are you doing, Natalia?"

"Don't call me that," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why not?" He sat next to her on the cot.

"It's a connection to my past. I don't want to be Natalia anymore."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know."

"How about something similar, but new?"

"Okay."

"How does Natasha sound?"

"I like it."

"Hey there, Natasha. I'm Clint. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Yes. Natasha will do nicely."

"Natasha Romanoff. Beautiful, just like you."


	10. Trust

Natasha stuffed the bread into her mouth greedily. She heard a slight noise and whipped her head around.

"Natasha?"

"Barton?!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You go first."

"Midnight snack," he mumbled. "Your turn."

"Dinner."

"Why don't you eat with the rest of us?"

"No one here trusts me."

"Let me guess. People would stare and whisper and you would have to sit alone. It was the same when I first got here. I get it."

"How did things get better?"

"One day I got hungry enough that I decided to suck it up. Yeah, they stared, but I refused to back down and eventually everyone kind of gave me some space."

"I don't want to bring that down on myself."

"I'll make you a deal. Tomorrow, you go to lunch with me. I'll go ahead of you and try to keep people from harassing you. We can sit together, too. If you want."

"Okay. Deal."

They walked confidently into the cafeteria, served themselves, and made their way to a table in the corner.

Someone cat called.

"You got yourself a girlfriend there, Barton?"

"I'm not his girlfriend. Stop being such a jerk."

"Oh, she's a feisty one! What're you going to do, scratch me to death? Or are you too scared you'll break a nail?"

She calmly set her fork down and stood up.

She stepped right up to the offender and punched him in the nose. His nose started bleeding.

"Is that the best you can do?" He taunted.

She quickly took him down using her martial arts training.

She and Clint left the cafeteria, leaving everyone in it stunned and silent.

No one ever dared anger Natasha Romanoff again. Word spread fast at S.H.I.E.L.D.


	11. A Second Chance

"Clint, I've been thinking a lot about kids..."

"Tasha-" he looked at her sympathetically.

"Not having our own, obviously. Adopting."

A huge grin broke out on his face. "Yes."

"What?"

"Let's do it."

She smiled. "So I'm thinking we could adopt a little girl from Russia."

"Sounds perfect." He planted a quick kiss on her lips and they went to make the necessary arrangements. Neither one of them could stop grinning.

They stepped off the plane in Moscow hand in hand. They met with the adoption agency and were finally introduced to their beautiful daughter.

Florentina was five, with flaming red hair. She could have passed for Natasha and Clint's biological child. She was rather shy and timidly waved at them from behind the director's legs. Clint and Natasha took her hands and escorted her to the private jet that S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided. Florentina's eyes widened at the sight of the luxurious jet. Clint stored her tiny suitcase in the storage compartment over their heads.

"Where do you live?" Florentina asked.

"We live in America, in a city called New York. When we get home you will meet your uncles." Natasha stated crisply.

"What are their names?" She inquired.

"Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Thor. And they are going to love you!" Clint said excitedly.

Florentina smiled shyly.

"You want some pretzels, Flora?" Clint asked.

"Yes, please."

"Is it all right if I call you Flora?"

"I'd like that." Her green eyes brightened.

"Well, Flora, welcome to the Barton family. We are so glad you are here." Clint beamed at the little girl, putting his arm around her protectively. She leaned her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.

Natasha fell asleep on the other shoulder. Clint kissed the tops of their heads.

"My beautiful girls."

He settled in for a nice, long nap.

"Nat, Flora, time to wake up. We're home." Clint woke them gently.

The little family left the plane hand in hand and got into the car that Tony had provided for them. The car pulled up to Stark Tower.

Clint carried all their luggage into the central room.

"Welcome home, Florentina Rose Barton!" Natasha declared.

Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Thor had hung a banner that said "Welcome Home!" and they had all drawn pictures for the new addition to Stark Tower.

Tony was the first to emerge.

"Woah! She looks just like you, Romanoff! Welcome home, mini-Barton!"

"This is Uncle Tony," Clint informed her.

"Hi," she said shyly, taking refuge behind Clint's legs.

"High-five, kid. You're going to love it here. We are going to take great care of you."

Before anyone could reply, Bruce showed up, fiddling with something, which he hurriedly hid behind his back when he saw the little girl.

"Hi, Florentina. Welcome to Avengers Tower. I'm your Uncle Bruce," he announced quietly.

"Hi, Uncle Bruce."

Thor and Steve came in next, arguing about whether or not an elevator was worthy to hold Mjolnir. They stopped mid-sentence when they saw the little red-head.

Steve introduced himself politely to Flora, who shook his hand. Thor gave her a huge hug and complimented her hair.

She played with her hair nervously. "Thank you." She blushed.

Needless to say, everyone residing in Avengers Tower fell in love with Florentina.

At Thanksgiving, Tony always gave her an extra helping of everything.

At Christmas, her stocking was always full to the brim with superhero shaped candy and trading cards.

Clint taught her how to shoot a bow and arrow and Natasha taught her self-defense.

For her prom pictures, all of them dressed up and stood beside her and her date, in full costume, complete with weapons, grinning from ear to ear.

They loved their little family. It was unexpected, yes, and dysfunctional at times, but it worked. And to them, it was perfect.


End file.
